2. Contact Info

3. Dealer Selection

I played dumb, so our Ferrari-obsessed associate photo editor Mike Shaffer continued, “You always start your stories with some sort of anecdote. What’s it going to be for Best Driver’s Car?” Well, young Shaffer, how’s this for an anecdote: Over the course of six days in June, I had the keys to 82 cylinders, more than 5000 horsepower, and 4000 lb-ft of torque split between 11 performance cars worth more than $1.5 million. Most folks would happily give up a limb just to sit in and sniff the interior of any one of these monsters.

Forget sitting. I got to drive all 11 of our contenders very hard on some beautifully twisted California back roads; put ’em through the gauntlet of our test track; sit in the passenger seat as former GT2 world champ and 24 Hours of Le Mans winner Justin Bell went nuts around Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca, before swapping places so I could do the same as close to flat-out as I dared with every circuit of electronic assistance shut off. How’s that, Mike? That’s right, boys and girls, after a two-year hiatus, Motor Trend‘s Best Driver’s Car is back, and bigger and better than ever.

But is there really a single best driver’s car? Really? Is there actually one car that so puts the driver first and foremost, we can point in agreement and say, “Yup, that’s the one.” Well, for the sake of all the time and effort our 23-man and one-woman team put into it, we’ll argue yes, there certainly is. And by the time you’re done reading this lengthy discourse, you will not only know the which of the 2011 BDC, but the much more important part — the why. I’m going to let bossman Angus MacKenzie explain:

“What makes a great driver’s car? It’s not brute performance or gut-wrenching grip. A great driver’s car is about balance and finesse, about the quality of the interaction between man and machine. A great driver’s car has the chassis and powertain and brakes and steering that enable the enthusiast driver to confidently explore the limits of its performance envelope on the track, yet remains engaging and entertaining when driven on the road. A great driver’s car doesn’t dare you to tame it; instead, it helps you maximize your potential.”

Got it? The hard part of the this story was actually narrowing down which cars to bring along. We invited all the hot new metal we could think of currently on sale here in the U.S., plus a couple of previous BDC winners. Sadly, some of the obvious competitors (Lamborghini, Aston Martin) didn’t want to play. Luckily, there were 11 cars that did.

CHOICE DRIVERS

Randy Pobst is one of the winningest American drivers on the road today. His career includes two overall wins at the 24 Hours of Daytona, four World Challenge GT Class championships, five Sports Car Challenge championships, and nine SCCA national championships. He currently drives for KPAX Racing in the World Challenge series.

Justin Bell is an internationally known automotive personality who regularly covers racing, lifestyle events, and celebrity interviews for the Speed Channel. In his career as a professional race car driver, Justin has won a number of races and championships, including the FIA GT2 World Championship and the 24 Hours of Le Mans.

HOW WE TESTFinding Our Best Driver’s Car Requires Our Best Testing Tricks

Let’s say you were to toss us the keys to a new car and challenge us to evaluate it in just 30 seconds. You’d have us stumped us, right? Actually, we can learn an astonishing amount within that half-minute — and with a few seconds to spare, even.

Requiring a mere 300-by-800-foot area, Motor Trend‘s figure-eight test is a 1/3-mile, infinity-shaped ribbon of asphalt in which we encounter — in rapid-fire succession — full acceleration, hard braking, limit cornering (both left and right), and all the possible transitions that link them. Moreover, the range of speeds involved nicely matches those enthusiasts experience in the real world, ranging between roughly 35 around the two 200-foot-diameter corners to upwards of 75 mph in a straight line before hitting the brakes.

For this Best Driver’s Car extravaganza, we amped up our standard figure-eight instrumentation with a GPS-based Racepak data logger that added a yaw gyro to measure the chassis’s slip angle, a gizmo to collect steering-wheel-angle data, and a trio of ride-height sensors to determine pitch and roll. Combined with our figure-eight course, the package is a concise, vehicle-dynamics-measuring machine.

For our Mazda Raceway lapping, we employed our Vbox system to precisely log lap times, speeds, and longitudinal and lateral g. But on top of that, we installed the most complex piece of test equipment in our entire arsenal: a guy named Randy Pobst. Randy is an extraordinary driver, of course, but what makes him the ultimate piece of test equipment is his ability to nail a representative lap time in a hurry, consistently repeat it, and afterwards offer a remarkably systematic and comprehensive breakdown of each corner, including braking approach, turn-in, late entry, throttle pick-up, and subsequent acceleration. Believe me, when you’re flying around a challenging track like Mazda Raceway, no bundles of wires or sophisticated software can come anywhere close to matching the processing power of a sharp brain in a seasoned racing driver. He also cracks better jokes than our Vbox. – Kim Reynolds

SLIP ANGLE EXPLAINED

You might not realize it, but during cornering, a car’s chassis is actually rotated ever so slightly more into the corner than the path it’s following. The difference is the chassis slip angle, a phenomenon due to the slip angle of the rear tire’s contact patches. Here, we’re presenting its average around the corners (because of yaw oscillations, the average sometimes seems small) as well as its maximum, to understand how loose the car can sometimes be. The apparent understeer is how much more each car’s steering wheel had to be turned beyond what was needed to simply trace the cornering path at low speed. The roll angle, in degrees per g, gives us a directly comparative measure of each car’s inclination to roll during cornering.

RE-TIRE-MENT PARTY

What a difference a tire makes. Sure, our last Z06 competitor (2007) also laid down the best Laguna lap, but it was described as “the most difficult to drive” on its slightly smaller Goodyear Eagle F1 Supercar tires. Michelin Pilot Sport Cups, with their sacrificial 80-treadwear-rating grip, tamed the beast and helped shave off nearly 6.5 seconds per lap. These are the most track-oriented tires here, followed by the Pirelli PZero Corsas, which Matt Edmonds of Tire Rack, the official tire and wheel supplier to Motor Trend, describes as “a system tire. It has a different tread pattern at each corner, with the fronts designed to evacuate water so they’re more streetable [than the Sport Cups].” He adds, “Anything not wearing Cups or Corsas will go faster with them.”

Second-quickest Ferrari might disagree, or does its secret lie in tire pressures? Only Ferrari sent a representative (Editor’s Note: all automakers were free to send a representative if they so desired, only Ferrari took us up on it) who insisted we lower the front-tire pressure by 2.4 psi and run the rear placard pressure (27.6 psi front/29 rear). Our 458 Italia and Audi R8 GT were the only two to recommend higher front than rear pressures for normal driving (and safe understeer). Absent factory instructions from the other manufacturers, we followed Tire Rack’s recommendation to uniformly add 4 psi for track work, to maximize the footprint and minimize sidewall rollover. Ideally, Edmonds recommends chalking the sidewalls, running a lap, and adjusting pressure up or down to find the lowest pressure that prevents rollover, but logistics precluded this approach. Randy Pobst complained of excessive understeer in the R8 that lower front pressure might have alleviated, but our tight schedule precluded such iteration.

Other interesting Edmonds observations: “The [Bridgestone Potenzas] are the most low-tech parts on the LFA,” and “The rear tires on the Boss 302 are three years old, so they’re obviously an off-the-[dusty] shelf fitment.” – Frank Markus

It’s always good to start things off with a tinge of controversy, right? A Lotus, one of Colin Chapman’s progeny, the simple car that’s had lightness added to it, is sitting dead last in our Best Driver’s Car ranking? Why, yes, yes it is. And, I might add, with very good reason. I should also add that, while comparison tests by their nature need a last-place car as much as a winner. The Lotus Evora S will excite and delight anyone who values performance and sportiness over everything else. It really does drive quite well. But we happened to round up 10 cars that drive better.

Lots of positive ink was spilled in sacrifice to the Evora S. Problem was there was even more negative ink choking the notebooks. Each editor wrote up a quick-and-dirty good/bad sentence or two for every contender. I’m going to start off with technical director Frank Markus’ take on the Evora S, because, while he had some nice things to say about the mid-engine balance, good turn-in, and great brake pedal feel, his bad list began with, “Everything else!” And Frank wasn’t alone in his criticisms. And did I mention that the supercharged Evora S is the slowest car here?

One thing the best driver’s car cannot and will not have is an awkward seating position. Well, guess what? In the Lotus, the brake pedal is where you’d expect the throttle to be; the gas pedal’s under the center console; and the clutch pedal is not only too far to the middle, but there’s absolutely no room to the left of it. Which means you’re constantly riding the clutch. Speaking, as Frank did, of “cornball ergonomics,” the Lotus’ “crappy” Alpine head unit is at least 10 years out of date. And the traction-control light was permanently stuck on, so we never knew if we were in Sport mode or not.

More than one of us noted that the Lotus felt less robust than the rest of the competition. Justin Bell was less than impressed with the overall build quality of the Evora S, worried that he was about to knock something loose. And he’s British. As associate editor Scott Evans put it, “Feels delicate, like any kind of manhandling is going to break something expensive. I want to drive it hard, but I don’t want to pay the price.” That price, in case you’re wondering, is $90,100, essentially the same price as the 2012 GT-R that Nissan loaned us. Associate road test editor Carlos Lago wrote, “$90,000?! I checked the sticker and didn’t see a $20,000 Optimism Package.”

Randy Pobst, one of our professional race-car drivers for BDC, found the car’s handling particularly odd. The Evora S would oversteer on turn-in, and then understeer to the point of pushing on turn-out. As he stated, “It’s a car where it actually pays off to go to the throttle pretty early in the corner, which is something I’m usually trying to tell my students not to do when I’m teaching driving.” Backing that up, testing director Kim Reynolds recorded the highest difference between average slip angle and maximum slip angle. “I’d rather have the Boss,” said Kim. “And I don’t like Mustangs.”

When I was 10 years old, I asked my folks for a RATT cassette. My mother said no, arguing that the hair rock masters are, “so stupid they can’t even spell their name right.” I’m not saying BMW is stupid, but I am saying the name 1 Series M Coupe ranks slightly above Z4 sDrive35is in terms of utter sexlessness. Remember when cars were called Roadmaster and Superfast Coupe? What does this have to do with Best Driver’s Car? Not much, though if BMW can’t even get the name right, where else did it pull punches?

Front-end bite, for one. The sharply orange Bimmer tested out with the highest degree of understeer of our group. It just plowed. But don’t take my word for it. Noted Randy, “Between you and me, I hate it. It won’t turn. It’s almost like it was built by safety engineers. But only until you get on the power, and then, getting on the power, it’s not really good at putting the power down, either. I’m just not impressed with this car. I like the M3 so much that I find the 1M to be very, very disappointing, though the M3 understeers too much, too.” Harsh words indeed, but that’s on the track. The real world tells a different story.

Even with the (relatively) poor steering, the 1M is fun to toss around, because when you do hammer down, the back end is all too eager to break free. I’m not very good at drifting, but even I was able to make the little BMW’s rear end slide about. “Any complaints from the racetrack are nonexistent on the street, where it sounds great, runs out well, and feels nimble and playful in curves,” said associate editor Rory Jurnecka. The BMW is the second-least-expensive car here, a (relatively) paltry $3000 more than the Ford Boss 302. Lago added, “It’s a fun-size M3 that’s just as fast and costs far less.”

Still, there was something half-baked, not fully formed about the smallest current M Division product. Compared with the other contenders, the 1M didn’t feel serious. It felt more like a puppy, frisky, eager but not as accurate or graceful as it might be. Sadly for 1M fans, we know the car’s not going to grow up. BMW basically built it with spare parts on a very limited basis.

While the handling was nobody’s favorite, at least the 1M was predictable, unlike the Evora S. Turning in meant a lot of wheel work, but it did the same thing every time. Still, the brakes faded every time you really got on it. Especially on the track, where the stoppers felt good for less than a lap. This is surprising considering they’re the same discs as on the M3, but we think we had to use them more frequently because of the car’s unsorted behavior. Randy found that getting on the middle pedal in a hurry would exacerbate the 1M’s constant understeering. Moreover, the brakes warped badly during our canyon run, the only car here to fail in any way.

Despite its fun-first nature and pretty decent numbers, the 1 Series M Coupe just isn’t a great driver’s car. Back to Randy: “You know, I hate to pick on what obviously overall is a pretty good car, but in today’s world there are not very many cars I hate…I hate this car.”

09. LEXUS LFAYou Try Building a Hypercar from Scratch

I still find it perplexing that the Lexus LFA is the most exotic car here. After all, it’s a Toyota at heart. But think about it. Carbon fiber everything. A psycho-revving V-10 that sounds just like an old F1 motor from the outside, and like an F1 engine stuffed in each ear from within. That front-mid-mounted humdinger sits so low (below the tops of the wheels!) that they actually had to gear it up to reach the transmission. Ceramic brakes, display panels off the USS Enterprise, a nearly $400,000 asking price and yet…

“They got the dynamics backwards,” noted Markus. “The nervous, twitchy chassis makes modest-speed maneuvers feel extreme. It manages to be better than the sum of its parts, most of which individually are flawed. There’s the fussy transmission that shifts slowly, overheats after one run, lacks a “park” feature, and has to be put in neutral to start. Then there’s the horrendous ergonomics and flinty ride quality. Finally there’s the excessive noise and utter lack of isolation from mechanical chatter and transmission gears moving around, tire noise, etc.”

Back to the nervous and twitchy part. The LFA has some of the most powerful brakes I’ve ever experienced. Anchors, literally. However, under heavy braking, the back end starts vibrating and shaking. It is totally disconcerting. For me, the Lexus was the most difficult car to get around the track. I just never felt comfortable. Unlike many of the higher-finishing vehicles, the LFA gave me no confidence that I wasn’t going to go spinning off the track. I just couldn’t push it. Lexus might be aware of this, because Randy noted that two or three times the supposedly disabled stability control switched back on. He could feel the brakes grab for just a split second when he’d released them pre-turn-in. Those same brakes were also smoking when he pulled into pit lane.

The flipside is that I sat next to Justin Bell, our other pro driver, as he gracefully danced with the Lexus around each corner. One caveat: Prior to Best Driver’s Car, Justin had spent an entire week demo’ing the LFA to potential customers around — you guessed it — Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca. His performance was masterful. It was like sitting in a practice room while Steve Vai ran arpeggios. Beyond impressive, and well beyond the average Joe’s abilities. Thing is, to really appreciate Vai, you need to be a guitar prodigy yourself. And while Justin loved the LFA, our other pro driver had gripes.

“It’s on a pretty fine edge the whole time you’re driving,” Randy said. “I have a good sense of control, but it also keeps me from throwing care to the wind and just flying, you know? When I think a car is really handling the way I want it to, when I go the fastest on a racetrack, I don’t have to think about driving it. It was like work. And for me, that’s less enjoyable that something I can just haul ass in, like, oh, I don’t know, the Mustang.”

That’s right, eighth place. We know the Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG is one special machine. So much so that if you threaten to cancel your subscription for the third time in as many months over this massive automotive injustice, we understand. After all, it’s a true and stunning Grand Tourer, with a hood so long you could practice curling. The new Gullwing is also a future Concours d’Elegance contender, and those mesmerizingly pointless doors make for a real automotive objet d’art.

Moreover, after a particularly hot, stand-in-the-sun-for-three-hours video shoot in the Central Valley, the team had to drive 250 miles south to our testing facility in Orange County. Instantly I asked for the SLS, because, hey, supercars with backbreaking rides are neat in small doses, but three hours in a straight line demands luxury and comfort. I was dismayed to learn that the big man himself (Angus) had already snatched up the Merc’s keys because he was thinking the exact same thing. (I wound up in a Ford Transit Connect with a busted door sensor that mercilessly chimed at me for the entire journey.)

But as far as our little Best Driver’s Car competition goes, big bird here has some issues. As mentioned, I got to drive all 11 cars around Mazda Raceway as fast as I possibly could, with every nanny in the off position. I looped exactly one car and it was the SLS AMG. You’ve been warned: Huge power and tail-happy handling may result in some bad behavior. In the car’s defense, I decided to flatfoot it coming out of turn 11, which resulted in my spin (a small one, at that; like a quarter spin, really). Still, a rose by any other name…but it must be said that I also flatfooted the Corvette, the Boss, and the Cayman R in the same corner with no ill results. Our road test editor, Scott Mortara, cautioned me about only two cars: the Lexus LFA and the SLS AMG.

Breaking down the numbers helps reveal why. While every car in the competition understeered, the Gullwing did so the least, and by a good margin. If you like smoky powerslides, that’s a good thing. However, couple that tendency with not only the highest apparent slip angle of the bunch (8.1 degrees) but the second-highest discrepancy between the average and maximum, and you have a very angry dog eager to bite the hand that steers it. Said Randy after his three laps, “It’s a lot of fun, but not a terribly well-behaved car.” Kim questioned how it ever left Stuttgart. “Which Mercedes test driver spun it three times and said, ‘Gut enough’?”

But why are we concentrating on the bad? The SLS is an absolute blast. The engine, the best iteration of the going-away N156 6.2-liter V-8, is righteous. The Mercedes stood out in this group as most potent, with 563 hp and 479 lb-ft of torque. Which caused Justin and me to gurgle like idiots every time one of us goosed the throttle. There’s just so much top end. The new Gullwing really is a modern, wonderful take on the classic Grand Touring concept. Unfortunately, in this competition, an absolutely wonderful GT isn’t the Best Driver’s Car.

07. AUDI R8 GTDo You Really Want to Drive an Everyday Race car?

“Overpowering understeer,” barked Randy as soon as he climbed out of the Audi R8 GT. “I can’t believe how much this car understeers.” Now, I can’t drive one-fifth as well or as hard as Randy Pobst can (fine, one-tenth), so my experience was much, much different. Understeer? Sure, I could feel it pushing, but Audis always push. And it was very predictable. In fact, the harder I shoved the R8 GT those 11 magnificent turns, the more I liked it. Only a handful of cars made me feel overconfident around Mazda Raceway. Only a few filled me with a sense of “hey, this is easy.” They were the Porsche Cayman, Nissan GT-R, Ferrari 458 Italia, and the copper beast Audi shipped over from Germany. But, obviously, I wasn’t pushing the R8 GT hard enough. That said, it’s doubtful that in the real world anyone will ever push the 560-horse Audi as hard as I did on the track. Still, the R8 GT finished only slightly ahead of the BMW in terms of instrumented understeer.

But perhaps the car wasn’t set up properly? Audi’s high-speed/load recommendation is 45 psi front/41 rear, but we used the sub-170-mph 39/36-psi rating plus 4 psi for track work (see sidebar). But that felt very wrong to Randy. So we took 4 pounds out of the front tires, sent Randy on his way, and he drove off the track at turn 6. His only off. “Tire-pressure recommendations and suspension tuning aimed at idiot-proofing the car,” as Markus put it, isn’t the R8 GT’s biggest sin. What’s lovely about the “regular” Audi R8 is it’s everyday supercarness. Want to run up and down a canyon like your hair’s on fire and take your wife out for a nice dinner? No problem. But the GT version? Not so much. For one thing, the ride is dismally rough. And unlike the normal R8, there’s no sport/comfort switch. It’s just hard. Which is a forgivable sin in a good driver’s car. As are the concrete-stiff seats. The seatbelts, however, are not.

The R8 GT comes equipped with four-point harnesses. On a racetrack, five-point harnesses hold the driver in place, especially the submarine belt that loops up over your crotch and prevents you from sliding out and under the belts. But with a four-pointer you can slide down in your seat, defeating the point of such a movement-limiting harness. I suppose if you were perfectly buckled in, you’d be OK. But no one is strong enough to tighten his own shoulder belt.

Worse, imagine taking it out on a date. “Let me get the door for you, honey. Now, put your shoulders all the way back against the seat and hold still while I tug. ” If you’re properly belted in, you can’t reach the radio.

Just like the half rollcage that soundly protects the part of the cabin you’re not in, the four-point belts are all hat and no cow. One of the things most necessary in a great driver’s car is that you want to drive it. That’s true of the regular R8 in spades. But once we left the track’s make-believe world, no one was leaping for the R8 GT’s keys. Now, would we like to get our hands on another version of the R8 with this fully uncorked, Lambo-spec engine? Yes, please. Until then…

Ah, the Corvette. No car (save the Cayman R) generated more controversy at this year’s Best Driver’s Car, and no car will generate more controversary once you commenters take your gloves off. Let’s get this out of the way right now: The Z06 decimated the competition around Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca. The devilish Chevrolet, which showed up with 666 miles on the odometer, was more than a second faster around the track than the second-place Ferrari 458 Italia, and faster still than every other contender. No car was even close to the time laid down by the LS7-engined monster, despite the fact that the Fezza, the Lexus, the Audi, the Mercedes, and the Nissan all packed more horsepower.

So why sixth place? You know anything about tires? Chevrolet decided to offer slicks as an option for the 2012 model year, and our Corvette came so equipped. In the Corvette’s defense, the Porsche GT3 RS also came packing basically the same sticky Michelin Pilot Sport Cups. However, they’re different spec, and the autobahnstuermer’s tires had tread all the way around. Not the ‘Vette’s meats. A quarter of the enormously wide 345s had no tread at all. The refrain then became, “Sure, the ‘Vette’s fast. But put those tires on the LFA, and let’s see what’s what.” Still, the grip was epic. Markus explained, “Heroic tire grip better matches the 7-liter’s big-lunged, basso, boffo performance, allowing mere mortals to safely and confidently explore a tiny bit more of the car’s enormous performance envelope.” Moreover, this Z06 performed the shortest stop we’ve ever tested: 60-0 mph in 94 feet. It also posted the fastest figure-eight time, well, ever. But no one would credit the car for either excellent stat, only the tires.

Then there was the Corvette’s perennial Achilles’ heel — those damn seats! Lago noted that with this ‘Vette, the ultra-gumballs help highlight just how inferior the seats are. Justin Bell gave me 30 laps around Laguna Seca as a passenger, and there were two of them where my (thankfully) helmeted head repeatedly banged against the window. If you have trouble reading between the lines, those two laps were in the Z06. Justin, who won Le Mans at the wheel of a Corvette, commented that he just couldn’t believe a car with such tremendous levels of performance would let the occupants get tossed around in such a ridiculous manner.

At one point Bell (almost) missed a 2-3 upshift because he couldn’t reach! Justin, who stands about 6 feet tall, had been hurled against the door and had to fight more than his own body weight (the Z06 pulls wacky g’s) to sit up straight and push the industrial-strength shifter up and away. To reiterate, the Corvette Z06 had the worst seats of the bunch, by a flying mile. While fast around the figure eight, poor Kim had to hang on for dear life. “It wasn’t pleasant,” commented Mr. Reynolds. Anyhow, same old Corvette story. And you can’t be the Best Driver’s Car if your driver struggles.

“I’m a cheap bastard, so I’ll take the Boss,” declared executive editor Ed Loh. Quizzing Ed a bit, it’s not just the Boss’ low price (the least expensive of the 11) that has him sold. Rather it’s the top-shelf level of performance that comes with this seeming well-drink of a Mustang. Don’t be mistaken. The Boss represents every trick — racing or otherwise — Ford Racing and the SVT division have up their go-fast sleeves. Once in a while, a car is greater than the sum of its parts. This Mustang is greater still.

Loh’s not alone in his Boss 302 appreciation. “This has to be the best Mustang ever built,” said Pobst. “It’s without question the best Mustang ever made,” declared road test editor Scott Mortara. “I can’t believe this is a Mustang,” said Justin Bell. “Best Mustang EV-AH, hands down,” chimed none other than own Frank Markus. “Best-handling Mustang I’ve ever driven. The best Mustang they’ve ever built, frankly,” says Scott Evans. I agree with all of them. So what makes this particular ‘Stang so dang special? Hint: It ain’t that stupid splitter hanging off the nose.

No, the Boss Laguna Seca’s secret lies in the tuning, both chassis and engine. Starting with the wonderful motivator under the Boss’ power-domed hood, the Laguna Seca borrows the 5.0-liter Hi-Po V-8 from the regular-flavor Boss. We all love this lump. Power is (probably under) rated at a roundish 444 ponies, while torque is supposedly down by 10 lb-ft to 380. Supposedly. But you could never tell, and if you say you can, you’re a liar. More important, you have all the torque you could ever want at virtually every point in the rev range. There’s just so much thrust! This motor would be happy revving itself into the stratosphere. Plus, it sounds fantastic, if not better than fantastic.

Then there’s the chassis, which really is the best part. “I cannot believe the way it hooks up!” yelled Randy. “They must have had John Force do the drag racing setup, because I virtually couldn’t knock it loose.” It’s true; blasting out of turn 11 onto the main straight, you could go flat in the AWD cars, the Lotus Evora S, the cheater-tired Corvette, and the Boss 302 Laguna Seca. The other cars would oversteer, and the Lotus simply doesn’t have enough gumption to break the back end loose. British TV shows will never admit it, but live axles do have certain advantages. Like being able to put more power down than an independent rear. Just the facts, ma’am. Just the facts. The front-end brake dive we’ve noticed on scores of other Mustangs was absent. You felt fully in control as you slowed to turn. Ford, finally! What a great feeling. And the Boss’ turn-in was even better. The car seemed genuinely excited about leaping into a corner. Moreover, it felt balanced in mid-corner, something that can’t be said for other Mustangs. We all came away super-impressed by the Boss 302 Laguna Seca, the least expensive car of the group. Febbo summed it up with, “Not only does it feel raw and slightly dangerous, but it actually feels like a world-class car.” Why fifth place, then? Because the four cars in front of it are even better.

This is, without question, the most controversial decision of the competition. Remember, the Cayman R is a further improvement upon a former Best Driver’s Car winner, the Cayman S. No one (save Kim Reynolds) wanted the Cayman R to be ranked first or second, but more than one wanted it placed ahead of its much bigger brother, the butt-engined, Mesolithic-era Porsche 911 GT3 RS. After all, engineers and common sense tell us that mid-engine trumps rear-engine in the handling department. These dissenters were angry, they were upset, they felt slighted, they threatened mutiny — and with good reason. The Cayman R is absolutely fantastic.

Nimble, tossable, endowed with lightning-quick reflexes and the wonderful balance afforded by that mid-mounted engine, there’s basically nothing not to love. Febbo notes that, unlike our top three cars, the Cayman R, “has limits mere mortals can achieve.” He’s not wrong, as the little green Porker was the only car I dared go flat out in over turn 1. I can’t print what he said, but I scared the you-know-what out of Mr. Bell by doing so. Still, I felt totally confident and in control the whole time. And turns 2 through 11 were even better. Says Benson Kong, ” Felt like the purest driver’s car of them all, with accessible performance and a marvelous PDK seven-speed.”

Even Randy gushed, “That was thrilling. That is an extremely satisfying car to drive fast, just made me feel like a better driver. It’s balanced. You turn the wheel a little bit, the car turns a little. You turn it a lot, it turns a lot. There’s steering response even when the car’s loaded. The steering is very linear. When I enter the corner, the more I’m turning the wheel the more the car is turning. It’s a very direct, linear, exact response, so I end up exactly where I want to be.” But it wasn’t all chocolate and sunshine from Mr. Pobst. “Really not a fan of the tires; the tires are really hurting its chances. It just would not stop. The brakes were overheating already, so if it had better tires, it would’ve only been worse.” True, carbon ceramics are an option — an $8000 option on an as-tested $78,000 car — but where were they? And why bad tires on such a capable chassis?

Well, Porsche not letting the Cayman be all it can be is an old story, though Frank has a humorous take on it, “The Cayman is Porsche’s Duke of Windsor, waiting its entire life for King 911 to die or abdicate.” Countless ink has been spilled decrying Porsche’s reluctance to release a full-monty Cayman, and here’s some more. Look at the horsepower: The R nets you 10 more than the S. Just 10! Why not more? And why not one drop of more torque? Ask Prince Charles. Can the Cayman handle more gumption? “Oh yeah, oh yeah,” exclaimed Randy. “It definitely could use a lot more. I want a Cayman GT2!” As of course does everyone. Maybe next product cycle.

Questioned Rory, “Should it be this easy? It’s almost a moral question.” Close, but only good enough for fourth place. Of course, a Porsche did finish third.

03. PORSCHE 911 GT3 RSEmbracing the Old School in the Best 997

During his laps, Justin made some interesting GT3 RS observations. “This feels like it was designed on a racetrack.” “I don’t think this will be the fastest car after one lap, but it will be in the lead after 20.” Because like any good German car, this Porsche feels like it was carved from a block of industrial-grade granite. However, it also flies. Blessed with the same basically race-compound Michelins as the Corvette, the GT3 RS lapped Laguna in the 1:36 bracket, despite being about 100 horsepower down from the other four cars in that grouping. Tires are only part of the story.

“Frighteningly old school,” says Lago. “I like the raspy idle, how the clutch rattles when you’re stopped, the alarming amount of force you have to apply to the clutch pedal, how far you have to throw the shifter. It feels like how older enthusiasts talk about vintage 911s. It fights back! I respect that.” All true, but like the Dodge Viper, when you get it right, the GT3 RS handsomely rewards you. It’s a sense, a feeling — something that auto scribes have been trying to put into words for generations.

On the way up to Laguna, I was driving the gray Porsche with the pink lipstick just behind Evans, who was running point in the Z06. We came up to a long straightaway, and the two of us broke off from the pack, sprinting hard and by ourselves for a good 20 miles. We weren’t flat out, but we were pushing hard. Just thinking about it quickens my pulse. Talk about tales to tell the grandkids! The GT3 RS — by far the most mechanical-feeling car of this group — was a dream. A totally majestic experience that made me feel both spoiled for being lucky enough to have done it, and envious of anyone wealthy enough to own the $152,000 Porsche.

You’re paying for it, but the GT3 RS is the real deal, most hardcore 911 ever developed for the street. Said Randy, “The grip, the tire grip, incredible. The braking, incredible. I mean, just in another league. It is that close to a race car. Really so familiar. The steering is absolutely perfect. That’s about it, real pure driver’s car. Race car. Race car!”

In fact, the magic might be in the flaws. Yes, the engine’s slung way out back and, despite Porsche’s iron-headed best efforts, the GT3 RS will still spin you into a tree if you lift mid-corner. As Angus noted, “It’s like an old friend.” I’d even go so far as to say it’s like an old adversary, or as Carlos mentioned, an old sparring partner. One who could at any moment knock you on your ass, but damn if it doesn’t feel extra special when you get the best of him. In that way, as Febbo noted, the GT3 RS is a “different species from the rest of the cars in our group,” designed in a different time. It’s truly old school, all the way down to its great-feeling but antiquated stickshift. Odds are that the next GT3 RS won’t have a manual transmission, and we know that whatever tranny it does get will sit closer to the middle of the car. The engine’s creeping forward, too. I propose a moment of silence for the last of the truly rear-engined brawlers. Now, onto the two better drivers’ cars.

02. NISSAN GT-RThere’s a Reason We Call it Godzilla

When we have the 458 Italia at a track, Ferrari ships out the car’s affable, smartly dressed, and wonderfully Italian chassis engineer, Lucca Torre. Just to keep an eye on things. Aside from reminding Randy and Justin (though not me) to push (pronounced “poosh”) the yellow demon harder, Lucca tells great stories. Like the one about Ferrari’s zillion-dollar supercomputer simulator. Essentially, you dump a given car’s vital stats into the system, and the simulator tells you how fast that car can go around a given track. “Knowing what we know, we can’t figure out how the GT-R goes around the Nurburgring so fast.”

“Oh, I know why,” piped up Randy as the GT-R ripped down the front straight at WOT. “Confidence. The driver’s so confident in the Nissan that he can just go faster.” Randy’s not just talking pros, either. Allow me to set the scene. Justin was ahead of me in the 458 Italia. The gorgeous back road was fast and flowing. I had the three important switches — transmission, suspension and traction control — all flipped up to R. Then the road changed from merely very good to roller coaster. Just out of this world.

Justin slammed down on the go pedal, and the Ferrari’s triple exhaust screamed and bellowed. He (almost) literally took off. He was going for it. Of course, so was I, and luckily I was in the Nissan. And for perhaps three minutes the GT-R and I were able to hang with Bell and his 458. Did I give up a car length or three? Sure. But I never lost sight of the yellow Ferrari. And that’s the entire point of the Nissan GT-R: Someone like me, a very rank amateur, was able to keep up with a Le Mans-winning GT2 champion in an all-singing, all-dancing, mid-engine Ferrari.

“Yes, yes. It’s a very good car,” ceded Lucca. “But the Ferrari has much better turn-in.” I’d just finished whipping both cars around the track. “That’s true,” I conceded. “But the Nissan has much better turn-out.” Grip — unnatural, pre-apex, Gorilla Snot-style grip — just might be Godzilla’s secret weapon. Said Kim, “Around the figure eight, I was able to get on the gas so much earlier in the GT-R. It really powers its way out of corners.” Randy felt the same. “Nothing digs out of a corner like the GT-R. It demonstrates how AWD is so good combined with over 500 horsepower on street tires.” As for Justin, Laguna Seca was his first time driving our former Car of the Year winner. The majority of his reaction involved him standing and staring at me. “I’d heard the car was good, but this thing is bloody incredible!”

Oddly, it’s the heaviest car here, at 99 pounds more than the meaty SLS AMG. Yet the GT-R ruled as accelerative king, rushing to 60 mph in a test best 2.9 seconds before conquering the quarter mile in 11.2 seconds at 121 mph. It was just over a tenth of a second behind the second-place Ferrari, yet ahead of the Lexus LFA, Audi R8 GT, and Porsche GT3 RS. The Nissan also had the lowest slip angle number of the entire test — half of one degree. We’re stating the GT-R is the second-best driver’s car you can buy, What we haven’t discussed is the gap between second and first place. It’s big.

After ruining each and every windshield filming our epic, 11-car drag race, the whole crew was standing in the parking lot of an Italian restaurant waiting for our 24-person table. It had been a long, grueling, yet utterly fantastic week, and to celebrate we were drinking beer and whiskey out of plastic cups. Markus and MacKenzie were regaling us young ‘uns with tales of lousy Ferraris of yore, in particular the 348, which Lucca had earlier explained was developed by famed Ferrari test driver Dario Benuzzi with one arm in a sling. Both Frank and Angus told how the old-school Fezza had tried to kill them. The conversation moved to the F355, the F360, and the F430, and how each generation represented a huge improvement over what came before. “But you know, this car is more like the NSX,” said Angus, leaning against our bright yellow 458 Italia. “It changes everything. The rest of ’em are now playing catch-up.”

“Angus,” I said. “Have you ever driven a better car?”

“Well,” he started. “There are certain cars better suited to other situations.”

“Never mind all that,” I said. “Have you ever driven a better car?”

“No,” MacKenzie replied. “Never.”

The same goes for me. Based on 24 hours I’d spent with the exact same yellow steed last year, my sense was that Best Driver’s Car was Ferrari’s to lose. And while numerically some contenders came close (the sticky-tired Corvette was faster around the track), digits don’t tell a story. People do, and the praise lavished on the Ferrari is basically never-ending. “It was just so much fun,” beamed Reynolds when he described flinging the 458 Italia around our figure eight. I asked for more, but Kim could only crack a goofy smile and re-proclaim, “Fun!” Driver Randy Pobst had so much fun, he forgot to talk during one of his laps and “had to” do an extra. He poured it on. “Steering is super accurate. The gearbox really makes those H-patterns feel like antiques. These brakes liked the heat. Yeah, the hotter I got ’em, the better they worked, and they held up just fine. An extremely well-behaved car. A real favorite of mine.” Everybody else’s, too.

From Febbo: “When Jesus was young, he turned water into wine. After his training on Dagobah with Yoda, he turned wine into 458s. There is no perfect sports car, but this might be the closest mankind has come.” From Lago: “Could you drive the 458 daily? Yes.” And even with that damn worthy praise, the 458 remains a true performance machine. If the GT3 RS is a sparring partner and the GT-R a supercomputer that happens to drive really well, the 458 is something in between. Lago also points out that if you get on the throttle at 70 mph in seventh gear, the resulting downshifts are the first three notes of a major chord. Jurnecka might have best summed up the 458. “For the first time ever, perhaps, nitpicking a Ferrari is nigh impossible.”

That’s the tricky part when talking about this mid-engine Ferrari. There aren’t any flaws. The 458 has the best seats, the best steering feel, the best engine sound. It even has the best ride. Climbing out of the Nissan and into the 458 Italia on our road loop was eye-popping. Compared with the Ferrari, the GT-R rides like a garbage truck. Everything is harsh, uncomfortable, and rackety. The 458 feels polished, cozy, almost relaxed. Angus kept noting how smartly soft the bushings were, whereas the GT3 RS and the GT-R seemed determined to knock the filling from your cannoli. The Best Driver’s Car shouldn’t beat up its driver. The Ferrari doesn’t. It cossets you, begging you to drive harder, faster, and for longer.

With the exception of the Corvette and its race-compound tires, the 458 was the fastest car around Laguna Seca. It was the second-quickest to 60 mph (3.2 seconds), and the second-fastest through the quarter mile at 11.3 seconds, just a tenth behind the GT-R and its AWD drag-racing advantage. More telling, the 458’s trap speed of 125.6 mph was nearly 5 mph faster than the Nissan’s. If you look at the chassis’ slip angle, the difference between average and maximum is identical to the GT-R’s at 1.2 degrees. The understeer angle between the two cars is virtually identical (52.3 for the Ferrari, 53.0 for the Nissan). Point being, a tenth here and a tick there, sure, but the two cars perform in virtually the same manner. But it’s the way the Ferrari does the deed that’s so special. It’s the fine quality of its actions, the satisfaction it gives to its pilot, and the simple sense that nothing else even comes halfway close that make the Ferrari 458 Italia the 2012 Motor Trend Best Driver’s Car. As Loh quipped, “This car’s perfect. Let’s eat.”

Post Script
Of course, there’s always next year. As the defending champ, the 458 will be coming back, and we hope in some sort of Scuderia form. But it’s the new metal that has us looking forward. Like the 991 version of the Porsche 911. And the Lamborghini Aventador. There will also be some iteration of the McLaren. And the new BMW M5. Let’s not forget the ZL1 Camaro, either. Even, maybe, a new Miata, just to keep the big boys honest. Excited much?